Fractis Animis
by Bellalyse Winchester
Summary: It's just a house.  Just an ordinary house.  And if some creature needs help, it should receive it, right?  Until it resorts to murder. Raised to M for safety, but could probably be T - due to language. *Now Finished*
1. Chapter 1

"_Amy!" _

_ "I'm fine, I don't think she got me. Doctor?" _

_ "All good, everything intact, no blood." _

_ "No—Amy…" _

_ The lights flickered on. A scream tore through the air as Amy rushed to her husband, whose knees gave way beneath him before she could catch him. On either side of his face, deep slits spilled hot blood down his cheeks…_

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**Several hours earlier**

##

"'_I can't see…'_"

"What?"

The Doctor held up the psychic paper for Amy and Rory to see:

_Help me. I can't see. I can't feel. Please, help me._

"Well…that's not a bit cryptic at all," Rory muttered, rolling his eyes. "Can't people just say what they mean?"

"When you're scared, Rory, scared and blind, do you think about what you say?"

"I'm just saying, a little context would be nice."

"Oh, shut up, the pair of you," Amy snapped, rolling her eyes. "Honestly, you're like a couple of kids." Rory and the Doctor exchanged sheepish looks as Amy went on. "Where's this message coming from, anyway?"

"Hm…no _exact_ location, some place on Brighton Avenue." He cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. "It's _always_ Earth, though, isn't it?"

"So, we off or what?" Rory leaned against the console; it seemed that over time, after many adventures in the TARDIS and many terrifying, wonderful, terrible, miraculous sights, his excitement for adventure had become healthier—not yet to the Doctor and Amy's wanderlust, but still, a deep of anticipation glowed around him as the ship began to slip through time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for the late update! So much stuff has been going on, updating now in the wee hours of the night/morning. Enjoy and don't forget to review! **

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><p>They stepped from the TARDIS several minutes later. Before them lay a deserted street, distant cries of fighting cats and wailing sirens all that broke the still, chilly night air. There was an unnatural apprehension cast over them as they looked in either direction.<p>

On one side of the street stood a tall, stately house, its only defect the untidy keep about it; grass was grown a bit taller than that on either side of the white picket fence, and ivy crept up to the roof. On the other side of the road was its foil; the house looked as if it should be condemned. There were spots where entire chunks of wall had fallen out of place, and the few patches of grass left on the ground were brown and dying. As they stood watching it, a weak breeze tore away a sheet of plastic from the roof, exposing a gaping hole.

"Well, then," Rory said thoughtfully.

"Spooky," Amy put in.

"Let's just…talk to the neighbors, shall we?" The Doctor turned to the other two, who nodded their assent. "Right, someplace with heat. It's bloody chilly out here!"

"Them," Rory said, pointing to the neat house.

"Yeah, I'm sure they…know something about this…" Amy broke off, and, each breathing warm air onto their own freezing fingertips, they bolted towards the house.

The Doctor reached the doorway first, and knocked urgently. The door swung open, and the three stepped inside.

"Wait—_stop!_"

As Amy closed the door behind them, a stabbing shock traveling up her arm as she did so, a man bolted into the room, shouting in anger.

"The _door_—how could you _close_ the _door?_"

The Doctor and Rory looked from the man to Amy, who furrowed her brow. "What? Draft."

The man threw his arms into the air. "Right, sure. Draft. Bloody idiot, thinking she'd let me be this easily—_have you any idea how stupid you are?_"

"Whoa, now." The Doctor held up his hands defensively. "Amy, you're not stupid, don't listen to the rude man. Now, introductions, I'm the Doctor, this is Amy, Rory. And you are?"

"The same as the three of you, totally doomed." The man punched at a wall before clutching his fist in pain. "You complete idiots."

"Um…I suppose we're not exactly on the same page," the Doctor said slowly. "Is this your house—we didn't mean to intrude, just a bit chilly, had a couple of questions about the house across the road—"

"What?" The man furrowed his brow. "That old place? The hell you want with that, it's just some old half-finished shack."

"We got a message from somebody here asking for help," Amy said. "Was that you?"

"Me?" The man scoffed. "Rutgers must've texted you, before he got himself _done in._"

"Done in?" Rory asked.

"We don't know Rutgers," the Doctor said softly. "Was he your friend?"

"I—" The man looked at the three of them in confusion. "Are you all thick, then? Don't you get it? We're trapped here. We're stuck in this damn house because your broad went and opened the door."

"Hold on, there," Rory said defensively, holding up his hands and stepping in front of Amy.

"Oh, stuff it, Pinocchio," the man growled.

"Just tell us what's going on," the Doctor said slowly.

The man rolled his eyes. "I'm just the pizza man, right? Name's Stryker. We get about twenty prank calls from this address in an hour, some creepy half-drunk chick breathing into the phone all heavy and saying these creepy things. So I come up to end it. No sooner do I close the door behind me, and this bloke runs up to me, name of Rutgers. He's the neighbor, complaining about noise. Screaming in the house or some shit like that—he's not the brightest man, if you get my point. Says the door locks behind you the moment you close it, and we're trapped there. Suddenly the lights go all funny, start blinking like mad, next thing I know Rutgers is on the floor dead."

"Ooh, blinking, _never_ a good idea," the Doctor muttered before swallowing. "Where's Rutgers now?"

"Three rooms back," he said. "You think I'd stay in the same room as him—I'd just dragged him back there, til you idiots showed up."

"_You_ closed the door, too," Rory pointed out.

"I didn't have nobody telling me not to, h'ain't it, though?" Stryker scowled.

"Who killed Rugters?" The Doctor looked the man up and down, his suspicion more than obvious to Amy and Rory. The man shrugged noncommittally.

"My guess is, whatever bitch had the bug up her arse set on dialing the pizza place every two minutes." The three narrowed their eyes on him, and he looked uncomfortable under their gazes.

"Amelia, try the door," the Doctor said stiffly. A chill went through Amy's spine as she squeezed Rory's hand, turning to open the door.

"Locked," she breathed, her voice breaking as she turned again to the others. "Doctor, have you got the sonic?"

The Doctor reached into his pocket, withdrawing his screwdriver. Before he passed it to Amy, however, he paused, letting it sit in his grip a moment.

"She's got no power," he murmured.

"_What?_" Rory asked, pulling Amy under his arm.

"She's got no power!" The Doctor exclaimed. "Juice! Volts! E-lec-tricity! Nothing!"

"We're in a haunted house with no screwdriver," Rory breathed. "_And_ somebody in this house is a killer. This day could not get worse."

Suddenly, the lights blinked out.


	3. Chapter 3

**I am ashamed, okay?**

**I feel so bad that I didn't update this in ages...it wasn't that I didn't have more finished, it was that I didn't know where to go with it :/ but now I have it all sorted, and it won't be long now until it's all finished. Enjoy, sweeties!**

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><p>As soon as they were gone, the lights were lit again, though dimly—Rory looked around, however, to see an empty room.<p>

"_Damn it!_" he exclaimed furiously. "Amy!"

He expected silence, and he was rewarded with exactly that. Scowling, he surveyed the room. Instead of the foyer he_ had_ stood in, he was in a small, cramped bedroom. He stepped around the bed to a small nightstand, atop which sat the room's only light source, a small lamp.

He fumbled with the drawer before pulling it from the stand, revealing a gleaming silver pistol. He snatched it up, as well as the ammunition lying beside it.

"Rory!"

His back went rigid.

_"Ror_-y!"

The voice was singsong and childish, the last sort of voice any sane person would like to hear in a haunted house.

"H—hello?" His voice was wary, and he took his time about creeping towards the doorway. "Is anybody there?"

"Rory, where _are_ you?"

He swallowed, raising the gun unsteadily. "Who's there?"

"It's _me_, Rory, it's _me!_"

The voice was darkly familiar; as he pushed open the door, Rory saw its owner quickly duck through another. He bolted forward, throwing open the door.

"You've got to try harder than that, Rory!"

He turned, seeing the door across from him close. Quickly he threw that door back, revealing yet another empty room.

"Come _on, _loser, this is no fun!" This voice was a little older than the last, perhaps pre-teen. "Catch me already!"

"I've got you!" Rory threw open the next door, his frustration increasing. He heard another door slam shut behind him, and he finally looked the hall up and down—there were at least a dozen doors on either side. "This is mad!"

"Come _on_, loser!" Where the other voices had been light and amused, this had a dark tone. "You're being stupid. _Open the door._"

Rory spun, opening the next doorway only to hear another close.

"This is fucking _simple_," the voice said through the wall. "But you were _always_ a stupid bastard, weren't you?"

"Shut up!" Rory cried, opening another door.

"Fucking moron."

Another door.

"Shithead."

Another.

"Amy doesn't even fucking like you, you know." This voice wasn't a child, not anymore. This was a man speaking—Rory couldn't make out the voice, but he had a guess.

"_Doctor!_" he roared, forcing open another door.

"Amy never liked you, asshole."

"Stop it!"

"_Stop it!"_ the voice mimicked. "You're just her bitch, buying her things and taking her places."

"Just shut up!"

"It was years she thought you took it up the arse," the voice sneered.

Rory kicked over the next door, staring about in fury when the room was again empty. He struggled to ignore the voice, but held his gun a little tighter in his fist.

"Why would she give a fuck about you? Next to the Doctor, you're rubbish."

The words seemed to echo in Rory's skull, as well as the voice; he knew now who it was, and it wasn't the Doctor. He didn't even look in the rooms anymore, just threw open each door one after another.

"They don't want you."

"_Shut up."_ The end of the hall was drawing nearer.

"They _hate_ you, you're wasting their time."

"_Shut up!_" One more door.

"They wish you would _die_."

Rory threw open the final doorway. There before him stood the angriest, most dangerous man he had ever seen in his life. He raised his gun, firing three shots into the man's face.

With a self-assuredness he'd never felt in his life, he stepped over the blood-soaked shards of the mirror.

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><p><strong>:O<strong>

**I really feel bad that I left you go for so long...you all earn the magical amazing badge of patience for waiting!**

**Reviews would be lovely, if you have time to leave one! :D **

**XOXO,  
>Bella<br>**


	4. Chapter 4

Amy's eyes flew open, her heart fluttering. She was in a bed—a bed far too large for her. Quickly she pushed the covers from her, only to have more fall over her lap. Furrowing her brow in confusion, she pushed the new ones off. More took their place.

She attempted to push these aside. They stuck to her hands—she realized as she stared at her fingertips that she wasn't just stuck; she was being _absorbed_ into the covers. The threads of the fabric sank into her skin, crawling up her fingers, and soon at her palms.

"Rory! Doctor!"

Her cries went unanswered. Urgently she kicked at the covers, but only found her toes fall numb as they were eaten up by the covers.

"_Doctor! Rory!" _

"Which one?"

Amy raised her head. There before her stood the silhouette of a man, shrouded in shadows. His voice was strange, unfamiliar yet familiar to Amy.

"Hello?" she asked warily. The threads had reached her wrists and ankles, but were slowing. "Who's that?"

"That depends." At this, the man stepped forward. Amy's scream pierced the air.

On his left, the man was plain, with a nervously trembling hand and short, brown hair. On his right, he wore a self-assured expression, with a confident countenance and dark hair which swept over his brow.

"I am who you want me to be," the man said. Amy's eyes were wide and terrified as he spoke. "Who do you want? Your faithful, protective husband, or your adventurous, fearless friend?"

"I don't understand," Amy murmured. "I _really_ don't understand."

"It's simple, really." This was Rory's voice. "Just pick _me_, and I can save your life, we can go back to Leadworth and live like normal people."

"Oh, shut up," the Doctor's voice responded. "Amelia, you have to pick the one of us you love _more_, and I—your choice will rescue you."

"Is that it, then?"

"You won't ever have to see him again." They both said this, voices merged as one. "Just you and me, Amy, forever."

Amy tugged; her arms and legs were slowly disappearing. "And if I refuse?"

"_Don't!_" Rory's voice was urgent.

"If you do, you'll die—just choose, Amy!" The Doctor was just as desperate.

"Can't you _both_ help me?" Amy looked at the man patchworked together in confusion. "I love _both_ of you. You can't ask me to give one of you up."

"This is your _life_, Amy," Rory cried. "Just one word, and all of this will go away!"

"Let me help you, Amelia, _my_ Amelia!" the Doctor exclaimed.

Amy's breaths quickened. "I _can't_," she shouted. The covers were at her shoulders and thighs. "Rory, you're the love of my life! Doctor, you're the greatest friend I've ever had! But I can't just say no to one of you!"

"You can't give each of us half of your heart," the pair of them said as one. "Half and half, _neither_ of us are whole."

"You can't tell me to make this decision."

"You have to."

Amy's resolve was bolstered at this, even as her torso was being swallowed up. "_No, I bloody well don't! _You say you're not whole? _I_ could never be whole without the both of you. And you _love_ each other, you're like _brothers!_ This…this has got to be some sort of mad trick, some illusion…I choose both of you!"

With that, the covers swept over her, swallowing her up completely.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey my darlings! Sorry I haven't updated this one in a while-it's all finished, just slipped my mind completely! D: But all's well now, and I hope to have it updated completely soon. **

**Reviews always adored, they're the only way I can know what you think! That or cake...Because I do so love cake...**

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><p>All at once, they were together.<p>

The Doctor and Rory stumbled in through the doors; Amy fell suddenly through the ceiling, collapsing onto the ground.

"Amy!" Rory bolted forward, casting his gun aside as he went to her aid.

"I'm okay, I just…" Amy took a double-take as the Doctor leaned over her. "I…were you two just upstairs?"

"Down the hall," Rory said; the Doctor nodded in agreement.

"I think I hit my head…" Amy furrowed her brow, before clutching her boys' hands. "Tell me you two still like one another."

Rory and the Doctor stared at one another before looking back at Amy.

"Tell me you didn't both just have a crazy thing happen as well," the Doctor said slowly.

"Um…yeah, crazy is the operative word," Amy nodded.

"Definitely crazy," Rory said. The past few minutes, at first almost gone from his memory, became fresh in his head. "I think…I think I shot a mirror."

"I was just eaten by a sheet," Amy put in.

"I was just at a family reunion," the Doctor said softly.

"How is that—" Rory began.

"Have you ever attended a family reunion after you've killed your entire family?" The Doctor stared Rory in the eyes for a few moments before looking away. "No. Thought not."

"Wait," Amy said slowly. "If we're all here, that means that whatever's guiding us around this house, it wants us to all meet up."

"So?"

"So," Amy said softly, "Where's Stryker?"

At once they looked about themselves, each stepping a little closer to the center of the room. Rory wrapped his arms about Amy before furrowing his brow, pulling back.

"Amy—something on your shoulder." He drew his fingers to his nose, and at once the look in his eyes became full of terror. "I think I've found Stryker."

Slowly his gaze shifted towards the ceiling, followed by those of Amy and the Doctor. Down dripped another few crimson droplets from the dying man's wrists.

"_She's here_," Stryker choked, before falling from the ceiling, body bashing against the ground.

Amy screamed, burying her face in Rory's shoulder. Her husband looked to the Doctor, his voice shaking.

"It was never like this," he breathed. "It's been scary, it's been awful—but this isn't even right. This is just…this is some shitty horror movie, and we're the pawns! Stryker's dead, can't be long before we—"

"_Rory!"_ The Doctor pressed a hand against his lips, his own voice softening. "Please." He tilted his head towards Amy, whose tears were hot against Rory's shoulder, falling even through his shirt and jacket. Rory took the message, falling silent and clutching Amy's shoulders.

"No matter what, I swear to you two that we'll be okay." The Doctor set a hand on either of his friends' shoulders before crouching above Stryker, flipping his body over with shaky hands.

"What is it?" Rory asked. Amy pushed herself slowly away from her husband, sharing his curiosity in whatever the Doctor thought he was doing; tears still ran down her face, but she paid attention.

"His wrists were slit," the Doctor said softly. "I've got to know by what—" After a long look at Amy and Rory, he dabbed his finger against Stryker's wrist. Amy closed her eyes; Rory averted his. The Doctor winced before quickly brushing the blood against his tongue; immediately he spat it out again, and continued spitting for several moments.

"Yeah, I can't imagine that tasting good," Rory muttered.

"It's venom of the Suirid plant," the Doctor explained. "Fresh in his bloodstream."

"So, he was poisoned?"

"Of course not," the Doctor said. "Well, not _exactly_—the venom doesn't kill, it petrifies the mind. Makes you open to telepathic suggestion. A stronger man may be able to take it, but Stryker…he would've been totally susceptible. But no, it didn't kill him. His slit wrists killed him. Cut back to the bone."

"I did _not_ need to hear that," Amy murmured.

"But that's just it," the Doctor said softly. "We got a message from someone who couldn't see. A woman, if what Stryker said is true."

"Not following, not at all," Amy replied.

"Those…_visions_, hallucinations, whatever it was we just had," the Doctor said. "It was a test. To see which of us was easiest to break. Which of us has the weakest defenses—emotionally, you know."

"So?" Rory asked slowly, the blood draining from his face.

"So, whatever is holding us here wants a weak person. Someone to take over—something tells me that this creature is weak, and just wants a living body to inhabit."

"Yeah, well these ones are taken," Rory exclaimed.

"Doesn't matter. Whichever of us had the worst response to the test is about to be attacked just as Mr. Stryker here was." The Doctor's breaths slowed. "Dear _God_, don't let the lights go _now_."

The lights suddenly flickered out.


	6. Chapter 6

"Amy!"

"I'm fine, I don't think she got me. Doctor?"

"All good, everything intact, no blood."

"No—Amy…"

The lights flickered on. A scream tore through the air as Amy rushed to her husband, whose knees gave way beneath him before she could catch him. On either side of his face, deep slits spilled hot blood down his cheeks.

"Rory! _Rory!_" Amy pressed her forehead to his. "Rory, you aren't weak—Doctor, how could she think Rory is _weak?_"

"I knew it even before she attacked me," Rory said, his voice thin. "I knew I was the one who'd failed. I'm sorry."

The Doctor was beside him soon after Amy, and took him in his arms, gently helping him lay back on the ground. "Rory, listen to me. She'll come after you now, in your mind. You've got to be strong, Rory."

The man winced. "She knew everything about me," he breathed. "She used it all against me…"

"Rory, hold this to your face." The Doctor pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, pressing it onto the deep cuts. Rory ignored him, hands reaching instead to Amy's face.

"How many times are we gonna do this?" he asked, his words slurring together. "Me dying, in your arms."

"Shut up, you're not dying," Amy scowled, though her eyes betrayed her fear. "Please don't die, Rory, _please_ don't die."

"Always bossing me around," Rory murmured affectionately. "I can't believe I ever doubted you."

"You don't have to be weak, Rory," the Doctor urged. "For Amy, you've been strong. You can be _so_ strong, all you have to do is fight her!"

"I—" Suddenly Rory broke off, his head tilting back. Amy leaned upon his chest; the Doctor leaned over his face, pressing the bloodstained handkerchief into Rory's wounds. There was a click behind them; the Doctor and Amy looked up to see a shadowy figure approaching through the opening door.

She was long-armed and graceful. Her fingers hung inches from the ground as she walked, and from her shoulders long antennae fell before her. Her face was almost human, but for fiery crimson eyes and two long nostrils opening and closing on her cheeks.

As she moved forward, she raised her arms. From her wrists, long sabers extended.

"Hold on!" the Doctor exclaimed, raising his arms in front of Rory and Amy. "You're a Transfeller! That's it, isn't it, a Transfeller—from the planet Adir, you live mainly in solitude and travel through galaxies fast as you think—but Transfella aren't blind, you see the most vivid colors of all creatures in the _universe_!"

"My brothers and sisters can see." Amy and the Doctor turned, realizing the voice came through Rory's lips. "My brothers and sisters can hear. But in this atmosphere my eyes have grown clouded, my pupils have shut. My ears have closed. I am dying in this world."

"Yes…oxygen reacts with the skin of a Transfeller," the Doctor murmured, his gaze returning to the alien as Amy stared in horror at Rory. "Slowly but surely."

"I cannot leave this planet, Doctor. Not in this body."

"You want Rory's body." The Doctor got to his feet quickly. "Well, it's taken! Rory's got a mind and a soul, and he's not about to give them up. I'm sorry, but I won't let that happen."

"There is nothing you can do," the Transfeller replied through Rory's lips. "I _am_ sorry, I truly am. But I have to see again. Psychic vision lacks color, lacks variety. I must see once again."

The Doctor looked down upon Rory's face, desperation in his eyes. "Do you _see_ this face?" he asked. "Do you see me? You've just murdered two men in the course of one night, Rutgers and Stryker, and you've just stolen away one of my best friends in the entire universe. If you honestly think that I will ever allow you to get away with that, you're mad. You've seen into our heads, you know what I am capable of."

"The venom is almost done with its work." The Transfeller sounded disinterested at the Doctor's words. "In a very few minutes, I'll be able to see again."


	7. Chapter 7

"Rory's still in there?" Amy asked the Doctor in a low voice. He nodded.

"Just barely."

She nodded slowly, and after a long, hard look at the alien, bowed her head close to Rory.

"Listen, stupid…I don't have a clue what that bitchy alien did to make you think you're weak. I don't even care, because you're not weak. You're the bravest man ever, you big idiot."

"Make your goodbyes more quickly," Rory mouthed. "He hasn't got forever."

"See, that's the thing," Amy said. "I'm not saying goodbye, Trans—whatever the hell you are. I'm telling him to throw you out. Because he's stronger than you. Rory, if you can hear me, you fight this like hell or so help me I will come in there and fight you." A fleeting smile alighted upon her lips, and then returned as the boldness in her heart shone through her eyes. "You fight her, Rory. She thinks you're weak? You show her how strong you are. Throw her out. You throw her out of your head, Rory! Just throw her out!"

Suddenly, his body convulsed; Amy could feel the blood pulsing in her fingertips as she bent over, her ear against his chest. His heart was beating erratically, then slowed until it reached a normal rate.

She heard him take a deep gasp, and looked up to his face. It took several moments for his eyes to focus; when they did, he stared at Amy in disbelief.

"He let me in." Amy's heart spiraled into a freefall.

"Oh my God," the Doctor murmured; a low sob escaped his throat, and he put an arm around Amy, who fought his grip.

"Rory! _Rory!_"

"Rory's sleeping." The Transfeller within Rory sat up, looking at his hands briefly before cupping them to his slit cheeks, which still dripped forth blood. She groaned, contorting Rory's face into agony. "Oh, what—this is _pain? I hate it."_

Her breaths became rapid, and the Doctor could see beads of sweat forming at Rory's brow. Amy's tears rolled down her face freely, but she had stopped pulling back on the Doctor's arms; he had, also, stopped restraining her.

"He—he let me in!" Instead of a cry of joy, the Transfeller gasped in horror. "Why would he just let me in?"

"Regretting it now you can feel pain?" the Doctor spat.

"No!" At this point the alien was sobbing and sputtering, but only half from the pain of Rory's wounds. "How could I bring another creature to feel this pain—and then he stepped aside to _let me in?_"

"You're psychic, figure it out!" the Doctor wasn't certain if it was rage or sadness he felt, but the words poured out of him in a yell. The creature fell silent, eyes rolling back as if processing its sudden, inexplicable situation.

"Rory wouldn't just let her in," Amy murmured, her lips quivering. "He's stronger than that. He could've thrown her out."

"No, Amy," the Doctor replied. "He's stronger than that. Rory's strong enough to be kind."

"To be that old," the Transfeller breathed, Rory's shoulders shaking, "and that kind, and the very last of his kind."

Amy could remember her own lips saying those words of the Doctor, and knew the alien was searching in her memories; with all her heart she remembered Rory. She remembered the first day they met, the years he spent adoring her, their first kiss, their first dance as husband and wife…With each thought, Rory's body trembled.

"He…" Rory finally sat upright, looking at the Doctor. "He wants me to see the stars. Just the stars, and then he wants me to leave."

"Will you do it?" Amy asked hopefully.

The Transfeller was silent for a long while. "Yes," she replied finally in Rory's smallest voice.


	8. Chapter 8

Rory woke nearly an hour later in the TARDIS, Amy sitting above him, a smile in her eyes.

"You are the bravest idiot I've ever met," she said softly.

"Let's just call that a complement, shall we?" Rory pushed himself upright, and saw that they were in their room. There were bandages on his face, making it difficult to show any expression. "How is she?" he asked without delay; Amy didn't need to ask to know who he meant.

"She's in the console room," Amy said. "It's too late to save her completely, but the Doctor's taking her to live out the rest of her life in space."

"She'll be home, then," Rory said, nodding.

"Rory…" Amy set a hand on his, furrowing her brow. "She murdered _two people._"

"She didn't understand," Rory said quickly. "I saw into her mind. Her people can't physically feel pain. She didn't understand that what she was doing was wrong; it was just survival to her. When she learned what a nonfatal wound felt like to me, she realized what she had truly done…it destroyed her. They're naturally benevolent, really. She just didn't get that she was doing something wrong."

Amy smiled softly. "You'd see the good side of anyone, d'you know that?"

Suddenly, the door opened. The Doctor stepped in, a wide smile on his face.

"You'll probably both want to see this," he said.

In the console room, they found the Transfeller, returned to her own body. She didn't turn towards them, but when they entered she cocked her head to the side. Rory could feel her thoughts penetrating his mind; there were no words, but emotion was everything. There was grief and shame, but more powerfully there was hope.

"You've only seen her on Earth, choked to death by all the oxygen," the Doctor said, bolting from the hallway to the door. "That's only half of what a Transfeller really is. Watch this."

He threw open the door; almost immediately the Transfeller gravitated towards the sense of home before her. She stepped over the TARDIS threshold, leaping forward into the starry blackness outside.

She seemed to become a starburst in the vacuum of space; layers of translucent skin separated from her body, which began to glow a myriad of pinks, yellows, greens, and blues. Her antennae sparked the most, shooting streams of white light in all directions about her. The blades in her wrists extended, but rather than use them for violence, she held them out to her sides, and they left long trails of light in the perpetual darkness as she drifted slowly away from the TARDIS.

"Will she be happy?" Rory asked.

"She'll be good," the Doctor answered. "In her last days, she'll be good."

"But will she be _happy?_"

The Doctor looked at him with pain in his eyes. "Centurion, should someone who committed two murders in the course of a single night be happy?"

Rory swallowed, leaning to the other man and lowering his voice. "Are _you _happy, Doctor?"


End file.
